


The Second After Madara

by mon_key



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Drama, Erotica, F/M, Hentai, Hurt/Comfort, Obito-centric, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-23 02:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mon_key/pseuds/mon_key
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sudden upset in the Fourth Shinobi World War. Obito gets a chance to change the fate.</p><p>Alternate events and a continuation of 343-392 series of Shippuuden (598-657 chapters of manga).</p><p>Madara hasn’t managed to use the rinne tensei while Obito is immobilized, the Naruto Therapy hasn’t finally washed Obito’s brain, he gains strength while chatting with Kakashi and Minato, who don’t let others approach and finish off him because they still look forward to get through to his mind. He has recovered from the loss of tailed beasts, then throws off Kakashi and fights bijuus to take them back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second After Madara

_And if I fall and crash and burn_  
_At least we both know that I tried_  
_And as I crawl those lessons learned_  
_Yeah they remind me I survived_  
_And Iʼve been hurt and Iʼve been scarred_  
_At least I know that Iʼm alive_  
_And If I fall and crash and burn_  
_At least we both know that I tried_

_© Lifehouse — Crash And Burn_

 

He is lying on a riverbank, with his hands behind his head and looking at the sky. It’s growing ducky. During the day the water has been getting heat and now it makes the air stuffy; that’s why he has placed himself bare-chested right on the ground. The violet cloak has been dropped beside.

 

It would seem that he is just resting unless his chest and abdomen has been traversed with the large wounds.

Wincing from time to time, Obito studies his sensations. Thanks to the reflective kamui he hasn’t almost been meeting physical pain for many years. And now he is recollecting how it is. Getting used to.

Despite just ten minutes earlier he was almost out of breath because of pain, it couldn’t be compared to the sensations after the recovery the half of the body eighteen years ago.

Because of huge blood loss the world is growing dark before his eyes. But Obito doesn’t try to dress the wounds not because of masochism. He just has no idea what to do with them. The only medical manipulations he has dealt with were the eye transplantation and the grafting of the hand, made of Senju cells; and those ones had nothing common with such extensive injuries of his own tissues. He is even in doubts that this can be treated without iryoninjutsu that he has never found time for learning. Before he got the kamui all of his wounds used to be bandaged by Rin. ‘Where are you now, Rin? I have been hanging on without you long enough…’

An orphan who has never known his parents, lost the only friend and an eye in thirteen, had had to spend many years far away from home because of an accident, and finally had watched the death of his beloved, - now he doesn't have anyone who would care about these cuts. Who would care about his heath at all.

‘Obito, never hide your wounds from me… I’ll always keep an eye on you…’ the Rin’s stern and careful voice is echoing in his head. He sighs heavily and closes the eyes. The real wounds have been inside.

When he has just zonked out, the recent events appear in his mind.

The flash of light blinded the sharingan, - the pad of the Nine-Tails – the claws across the chest – and the kamui that can’t manage to avoid that… Obito shudders and winks quickly.

Fortunately, at the last moment he had himself dropped out. Unexpectedly he had been moved there.

For the last half of an hour Obito has been trying to come to his senses at least a little. And somewhere far away the war has been going on…

 

The wet ground pleasantly cools the back. Although Obito guesses that the back is injured as much as the chest, maybe even more, and nothing but his own blood makes the ground wet, he can’t force himself to stand up. There’ll be an infection… To hell with that.

He doesn’t even know where is that good-natured, energetic, enthusiastic kid with the ear protectors and the orange goggles. Over the years his soul has reduced to bloody mess of anguish, revenge, cruelty, loneliness, dark and pain. And even the image of Rin, floating up from memory once in a while, can’t make shining something inside his ribs. The only thing that through the years have been reminding Obito he is alive is that pain. It doesn’t leave him just for a second, compress the lungs and the throat, and add hoarseness in his voice. He died not underneath the stones. He died beside the precipice, in the pool of blood, with the dark-haired girl in his arms.

Previously he used to be often haunted by that picture. Especially at night. Then, the nerves became not worth a damn, and he goes to bed even when he has got absolutely exhausted, or doesn’t go at all.

At uncertain moment he has realized he shivers with cold. Before his eyes blazing flashes alternate with darkness. He has sat up in order to knead the stiff lumbus – a picture starts to lurch aside and he has to lean back again. That’s bad. The forehead becomes beaded with sweat, the air is still stuffy and is pressing down into lungs very hard, - so, it’s not about the weather. It seems an intense bleeding makes him feel feverish…

Somehow he has succeeded in turning viscous thoughts to the right way. Where is he to seek help? Is it worth to seek? Is there any chance that one doesn’t just finish off him? Anyway, does he have something to live for? Maybe if it could have occurred earlier – and unless he had the kamui it definitely would occur – then Obito wouldn’t cling to life. It seems like Rin, being going away, gave him the mangekyo in the kamui form on purpose: in order to would not let clumsy Obito get hurt: after all, there would be no one to heal him…

Only thanks to Rin he has been alive all these years, only thanks to Rin he has decided to attempt to survive now. Who knew, whether she really liked him or just had been looking after no more than an old friend and a teammate. But it looked like Kakashi had got over him even there and had stolen the Rin’s heart… At the idea of the look that she used to give Kakashi, Obito is curled up and feels like someone pulls out his ribs, one by one.

The chest, back and shoulders burn like fire. It looks like the wounds are deep. Who can deal with something like these? Which village has so powerful medical department, nearby, and having no information about who Tobi-Obito-Madara really is? Why, if he could find at least any doctor… There is no strenght to use the kamui for long. He even doubts whether he has enough of chakra to use it at all. Konoha is the nearest village. Right, there one will definitely help him. ‘Hi, I’m Uchiha Obito. Well, the hero of the village, died twenty years ago. Almost. No, not almost twenty but almost died. No-no, there is not me who has arranged the war. Maybe I’m similar to, just it. Heal me, please, and I’ll go to continue killing your people,’ he camps in Tobi’s way.

He grins joylessly – and right afterwards chokes over blood. He wipes his chin with the fist. Sticky, red. Ugh.

To hell with the cloak and the mask. This way they maybe won’t recognize him.

‘Kamui!’

____________________

 

‘Damn, so hurts!..’

Obito has slammed the wooden floor by flank and shoulder. There hasn’t been power enough to materialize well. He spits out blood.

In both directions there is a corridor. What now?

Being focused on getting stand up he hasn’t even catch sight of footsteps approach, echoing between the walls.

Only when his shoulder has been touched (‘Hurts!’) he hurriedly turns round. The twitch has made the world before his eyes getting dark. He needs a couple of seconds to stabilize the picture.

A little ginger twelve-old girl with a weird hair up looks at him. She has made out the scars on stranger’s face in the dim and cringed back instinctively. But after a time she’s made sure the stranger doesn’t show aggression and, moreover, teetering, he can barely stand. She breaths in deeply. Screws up her eyes. Breaths out. She opens the eyes again, gets gravity and forces herself to take a step forward. ‘We have been taught that a medical-nin shouldn’t get frightened of that. I must help him.’

‘Come with me, I’ll lead you to the admission department.’

And no question is added.

Obito breaths out. This is a rescue!

 

In the admission room is the bustle. There are so many casualties that no one sees him. The wounded are everywhere: against the walls, on gurneys and chairs, even on the floor. He has put up with the fact that he'll die here because his turn definitely won't come. But he has no strenght even to stand straight. He leans his forehead against the wall to keep balance at least for a second more. It's cool, pleasant.

Fortunately, the girl proves to be in earnest about her duty even more than necessary. She has decisively plucked at his trouser-leg (thank god, not at the shoulder!) that’s why Obito’s wet forehead has almost slipped off the wall. Then, his rescuer drags him somewhere through the crowd, definitely knowing the right direction. Obito doesn’t already see where he is going, his head is splitting out, and he tried at least not to plunk down right on the casualties.

The crowd has stopped pressing him from both sides.

Two last things that he has heard are ‘Look out!..’ and the loud crasher of his own body on the floor.

____________________

 

The eyes are stinging. Damn, why both?

Oh, yeah. The rinnegan.

Obito had been wearing a patch or a mask over the left side of his face for so many years that he hasn’t still got used to see with two eyes.

Being in no hurry to open them, he makes a few deep breaths. It still hurts to breath, extremely hurts.

He has to unstick the eyelids, in spite of bright, sharp light. The first thing which his look has met: a man in white hurriedly turns round and walks the door. There are hasty steps, a voice, muffled by doors, ‘He’s got awake. Analgesic?..’

‘If there is an extra spare. And no more than five milliliters. We should save that for our own people,’ the second voice is female, commanding.

‘What does this ‘our own’ mean? Have they recognized me?..’ Obito thinks. ‘I’m damn idiot! Tried to hide with the sharingan. As if one can’t count the Uchihas on his fingers. And with the rinnegan! I’m fucking idiot…’

Meanwhile, the female voice continues, ‘If Sakura isn’t busy, charge her to. I doubt someone else would want to mess around over him. But she seems to like the Uchihas. Maybe she won’t refuse.’

Just now Obito has realized that his arms and legs are fixed hard with something. He can’t move. Good for them, made themselves secure! And power for the kamui will be lacking for long.

It seems the bleeding has been staunched. Besides, the brain works a bit better. But all the body aches as hell and there is kind of no skin on the chest – that hurts so much.

It has taken about twenty minutes – and everyone of them passes like aeons for Obito, - before there appears a pink-haired girl in white coat and with a syringe in her hand.

‘Long time no see!’ her eyes shoot fiery arrows, the mouth curves into a sneer.

‘Mm?’ is the only sound that Obito can force himself to give before he has given a gasp of pain.

He gets that looks like the lungs were reached – that’s why it’s so hard to speak and breathe.

Seeing the face of the patient, distorted with pain, Sakura unbends a little and has swallowed the next scorn. A pity and an anxiety sparkle in her eyes. And his hair… So close up it’s just like Sasuke’s. And the eyes… or rather, one eye.

‘Where is it painful most of all?’ the voice is softer but the severity hasn’t still gone.

He silently nods toward the chest.

‘Centre? Upper? Lower? Show with fingers.’

With some difficulty he straightens two fingers. His right hand always works worse.

‘So, the upper third.’

The girl professionally turns round the syringe, even without a stop to aim, introduces a needle into pectoralis major muscle, a bit upper the left nipple, and quickly deflates the drug, without pain. 'Almost into the heart,' Obito thinks.

'The eyes are watering. I consider, that's because of overexertion... But it would be better if they have never opened,' metal clinks in her voice. Sakura has embarrassed of her own roughness. ‘But seeing as I’m here, I’ll examine,’ with an imperceptible movement she takes a small torch out of the pocket of her coat and approaches to Obito’s face.

At the first moment her eyebrows tremble - the pity - one of two emotions those Obito sees at the first look of people at his face. The second is fear. Just pity or fear. Or more often - first of all a fear, then a pity. Generally, Obito doesn't care about this. He only uses it to conclude who is in front of him.

To give Sakura her due, this expression has appeared just for a second and immediately - professionally - changed into gravity. There is no fear. The girl has seen a lot.

Obito yields in, and Sakura blinds him with the torch for a short time. First, the sharingan. The rinnegan she has been examining longer. Obito's neck gets stiff, he squirms. And suddenly he realizes that the pain has partially retreated. At least he doesn't want to die during every movement any more.

Due to this, now Obito can raise his head to see what about the wounds. Almost all the torso is bandaged. Eighty per cent of the bandage is red.

All this time since she has finished examining his eyes and while he is looking over himself, Sakura is staring intently and thoughtfully at his face. Looks like she is trying to make a decision and shuffling the options.

Obito interrupts her thinking.

'Sakura?..' he has waited until she nods. 'Tell me, why I'm... still alive?' the voice is completely hoarse, alien.

'If you haven't tried to escape yet then there still are troubles with your chakra,' thinks Sakura. The decision-making process has got complete.

'Be grateful. But not to me. Anyway, don't get excited too soon. Now I'm going to bandage and see what we have. As far as I know the wounds haven't been cleaned.'

Obito patiently stands the unbandaging thought Sakura hasn't been careful, not a bit. The events on the battlefield are appearing more distinct through her memory. First time in life she wants not to relieve patient's suffering but increase. Even better - to wring his neck. For all, for everyone.

But she may not yet.

She takes a deep breath and has to gain control of herself.

The wounds look bad. Deep V-shaped furrows are a half-palm wide: two of them are all over the chest and one - all over the abdomen. Except the white half of his torso, they are still bleeding. Almost the same picture is on the back, but moreover there blood is mixed with dirt. So much, that she can't see whether there is an inflammation.

'It's probably hard to bear', unintentionally Sakura feels for him, she has forgotten for a moment that it's Neji's murderer, the Fourth's murderer... She shakes her head and revives the anger in herself.

With a sponge and a basin of water Sakura has washed away as much dirt as she can and rubs in the rest an antiseptic liniment. A smell of mint appears at the moment.

During debridement and bandaging Obito is breathing loud, gritting his teeth, and even once has failed - groaned. The ungenerous analgesic reduces pain just in half.

Sakura has tied the fresh bandage tightly and then puts down on him the green light of her palms. It's important to tinker him up minimally, so as not to raise his chakra.

Obito has closed his eyes tiredly. A sharp thought pricks his mind, 'It's interesting, what's with Kakashi?' He looks at Sakura with doubt - is it worth to ask something? Obito decides that it's not known yet how bad he will be able to think when an effect of painkillers ends. So, it would be better to do it now.

But he says aloud another thing.

'What about Madara?'

Sakura stares at him. Then, she hems.

'As you can see, if your fellow had got his way he would give you a better thukuyomi than now, wouldn't he?'

Obito wrinkles. He has already understood this thing. He banishes from the head the image of the girl with violet tattoos on the cheeks, who has bobbed up right now, - so as not to howl aloud, - but he hasn't given up.

'Dead?’

‘Disappeared. Along with Hashirama-sama. Shortly after you.’

‘What about Kakashi?’ Obito blurts out.

She looks at him in astonishment. Does this monster care about somebody?

‘Since when have you been interested in?’

Obito doesn’t know that not just the fox-cub has read his memory; this was translated on its own through the chakra of Naruto to every detachment of the shinobi army. If Obito knew he would be horrified. But, anyway, the only one who empathizes with him was Naruto. And this is weird even more because blood of his parents was on Tobi’s hands. Tobi’s. Not Obito’s, but Tobi’s. He prefers to think this way at the moment, despite the time of those events only the mask united him with Tobi.

Sakura knows, like everyone does. She doesn’t feel pity a little bit for the boy in orange goggles but somehow she has an awkward feeling that she shouldn’t mention she knows. Like even a monster doesn’t deserve such treatment of the remnants of his sole.

Suddenly Sakura feels Obito’s chakra increasing. Without losing an instant and keeping moveless countenance she reached into the coat pocket, draws out a small injector and at close range, with a direct movement introduces the liquid into his shoulder.

But the injector along with her hand has suddenly sunk in the shoulder and sticks in the mattress. A wet halo of the drug is extending over the sheet.

Before Sakura has time to realize what happened, Obito, still being here, has whispered, ‘Try again.’

She has no spare one. Sakura has pulled herself together, has kept outward calm by a miracle and tells the patient that she’ll come back soon. She bites a lip already in the corridor and quickens her steps.

 

While Obito is lolling about and looking forward to a new dose of an analgesic, in the other end of the corridor there has been a conversation unheard for him.

‘Tsunade-sama, how does Kakashi-sensei feel? If he can move, I urgently need him. Tell him, please, to come to the ward door and wait my signal. If he can’t then call as many ANBUs as feel okay. At least ten. That’s urgent. There is no time to explain.

‘Fine, Sakura. Shizune!..’

 

Sakura has gathered all the injectors with the necessary preparation which she could find. On the way back she sees sensei already waiting for her beside the ward door. He stands, leaning against the wall, and looks exhausted. Bandaged forearm shows from under the sleeve. Without a word, she points to her left eye. Kakashi nods.

Screwed up her eyes and having a foreboding Sakura has pushed the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers! If you find a mistake, please, tell me. I want to learn=)


End file.
